


To Be a Werewolf or Not to Be a Werewolf

by iam93percentstardust



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: When Gilderoy Lockhart’s latest book comes out, Remus Lupin earns an interview with him, hoping to find a cure. Unfortunately, Lockhart isn’t quite the talented wizard all the papers and stories have made him out to be.





	To Be a Werewolf or Not to Be a Werewolf

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean there was a cure for werewolves mentioned in Chamber of Secrets? Whatever happened to it? Why didn't Lupin use it? The answer to all those questions and more in this fic.

Remus Lupin picked up the Daily Prophet. A handsome wizard beamed cheekily up at him. Remus snorted softly. It looked like Lockhart’s latest book was doing well.

Remus remembered Gilderoy Lockhart from his school days. Lockhart had been in Ravenclaw and had been a few years older but Remus could recall seeing him around the school. He’d always seemed to exude self-confidence and charm.

Not really caring about Lockhart’s latest book, Remus was preparing to turn the page when the headline caught his eye. He turned back to the front page intrigued.

  

_GILDEROY LOCKHART WANDERS WITH WEREWOLVES_

_In famed wizard Gilderoy Lockhart’s latest book, Wanderings with Werewolves, he takes on not one but two werewolves terrorizing a small village in the south of France._

_Lockhart has dedicated his life to the eradication of the dark arts and has spent the last fifteen years traveling abroad, hunting dark creatures. After several adventures, Lockhart decided to publish a series of books based on his travels, many of which have topped the Daily Prophet’s best-seller list._

_But I don’t need to tell you that. You already know the success story that makes up Gilderoy Lockhart. His newest book, Wanderings with Werewolves, looks to be just as promising as his last books. Wanderings with Werewolves focuses on our hero as he saves a small French village from monthly werewolf attacks. Performing the complex Homorphus Charm, he is able to cure both werewolves of their affliction. To this day, Gilderoy Lockhart is the only known wizard to successfully cure a werewolf…_

  

There was more to the article but Remus had stopped reading. “The only known wizard to successfully cure a werewolf…” Remus had never heard of a cure for werewolves before but if one truly existed…

He looked down at his robes, patched in multiple places and threadbare. If even the possibility of one existed, he needed to take that chance. If it didn’t exist, Remus thought wryly, well, he wasn’t any worse off.

Now the only problem was setting up a meeting with Lockhart. Remus didn’t think that it would be too difficult. By all accounts, Lockhart gotten to be quite arrogant and narcissistic after his successes. If he made it sound as though he were an eager fan or a reporter, Lockhart would probably be more than willing to give Remus an interview.

He sat down at his desk and drafted a brief letter. Then, he let his owl out of her cage and tied the letter to her leg.

“This is for Gilderoy Lockhart,” Remus told her. She hooted reassuringly, as though telling him that she could find Lockhart even if she’d never delivered a letter to him before. A moment later, she was gone through the open window.

With nothing else to do, Remus opened the newspaper again and sat down to wait.

* * *

 Bright morning sunlight streamed through the gauzy curtains. With much enthusiasm, Gilderoy Lockhart leapt out of bed and greeted the day. There were three owls rapping sharply on the windows.

Gilderoy let them in. Each one held out its leg for him to take his package. As he took the scrolls, the owls soared off into the sky. One paused to nip a bite of sausage from the nearby breakfast tray.

Gilderoy turned to the scrolls, each a different newspaper from around the world—England, France, Japan. As he settled back in bed to eat his breakfast, he flipped through the newspapers, searching for some local disaster to capitalize on. There was a vampire in Tokyo and a ghoul in Angers but nothing he hadn’t already written about. With a sigh, he put the papers away. Hopefully, the papers arriving later in the day would have better news.

Gilderoy’s heart lightened, though, as he saw the mountain of fan letters sitting on his desk. He slipped on his blue and bronze Chinese silk robe (a gift for getting rid of a yeti—and in his house colors too!) and settled down at his desk.

Opening the first letter, he read: “I am thrilled to read your new book. I’m sure it will be just as thrilling as your other books and I’ll be on the edge of my seat. Your most devoted fan, Eleanor Bigby.”

Gilderoy smiled fondly. Taking his favorite peacock feather quill, he penned a short reply to her and set it aside to be addressed later.

“I really do need a secretary,” he mused.

Three hours later, he’d neared the bottom of the pile when one of the letters caught his eye. He went back and reread it, noting that it didn’t sound like any of the normal fan letters he received. In fact, it didn’t sound like any of the letters he’d ever received.

 

_Dear Mr. Lockhart,_

_My name is Remus Lupin. You probably don’t remember me but we went to school together. I was reading over the Daily Prophet’s review of your latest book, Wanderings with Werewolves, and was most intrigued. I’ve never heard of the Homorphus Charm before. Unfortunately, having read your books before, I feel certain the details will be glossed over._

_As I have a friend who is a werewolf, I would be interested in hearing about the finer details of the charm from you personally. If possible, could you fit an interview with me into your busy schedule?_

_Thank you for your time,_

_Remus Lupin_

 

Gilderoy sat back in his plush armchair. This had to be some sort of a ploy. He couldn’t remember this Remus Lupin but he had to either be a werewolf or intending on subduing one. No one was “friends” with a werewolf. And werewolves didn’t want to be cured. Everyone knew that they enjoyed their transformations and turning others. Which meant that he had to be planning on fighting one. And if he was planning on fighting one…

The revelation struck Gilderoy suddenly. This Remus Lupin was going to capitalize on his hard-earned success! That had to be it! He was going to use Gilderoy’s method, defeat his own werewolf, and release his story to the Daily Prophet.

Gilderoy leapt up and started pacing. He couldn’t simply ignore this Lupin fellow. He’d just keep pestering him until he gave in. But neither could he tell him how to use the Homorphus Charm.

After all, the Homorphus Charm didn’t exist.

The truth was, Gilderoy’s ratings were dropping. His books were still popular but people were beginning to tire of Gilderoy simply killing the monster. When he’d sat down to write this book, he’d remembered what the man who’d actually killed the werewolves had said. He’d wished that there were a way to cure werewolves, as the two teenage werewolves had been wonderful, hard-working kids before they were turned. And Gilderoy had thought to himself, what if there was a way? Thus, the Homorphus Charm was born.

But he couldn’t tell Remus Lupin this. The man would just sell the secret. He—Gilderoy—would be ruined.

No, he’d just have to give him a fake spell. Hopefully, Lupin would be killed by the werewolf or destroyed by the spell before he realized it was fake. And if Lupin started to suspect something? Well, that’s what the Memory Charm was for.

* * *

 

Four days later, Remus waited at the Leaky Cauldron’s bar. He checked his watch yet again. Lockhart was late. Very. Remus sighed.

“She stand you up?” the man to the right of Remus asked sympathetically. He pushed a bottle of firewhiskey over. “Know how that feels.”

Remus took the bottle but didn’t drink from it. He knew he’d need to have his wits about him. If Lockhart were anywhere near as talented as he claimed, he’d have thought about the possibility of Remus trying to steal his success. Maybe if Lockhart drank it, though, he’d open up about the spell faster.

There was a commotion at the door. Lockhart entered with a flurry of activity. Witches were suddenly patting down their hair and searching their bags for quills. Wizards were leaping up to shake Lockhart’s hand and congratulate him on his success. Through it all, Lockhart beamed that megawatt smile but his eyes searched the room, plainly looking for Remus.

Remus pushed off the bar. “There’s my date now,” he said and walked towards Lockhart, enjoying the shocked look on the man’s face. For a fleeting moment, he imagined what James or Sirius might have said. Then, he reminded himself that they were both gone and that it was no good dwelling on the past. Not when he had a job to do.

He waited patiently until there was a break in the crowd. Then, he slipped up to Lockhart. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. “Remus Lupin,” he said quietly.

Lockhart’s eyes flicked over him, taking in the threadbare, patched robes, the dark circles under his eyes, the unkempt hair. He seemed to recover quickly though and exclaimed, “Ah! The man of the hour!” He seized Remus’ hand, practically shouting, “Pleasure to meet you, my good man!”

Immediately, the crowds swarmed again, all wanting to know who Lockhart was meeting with and what their meeting was about. In the commotion, Remus managed to slip away and ended up next to Tom, the bartender.

“Can we get a private parlor?” he asked softly.

Tom glanced over at Lockhart’s adoring fans and nodded. “Room 3 is open,” he offered.

“Thank you.” Tom made to go with him and Remus held up a hand. “I know where Room 3 is, thank you.” He made his way back to Lockhart. Instead of waiting for the crowd to dissipate, he weaved in and out of the crowd until he found himself next to Lockhart again.

“Room 3 is open,” he told Lockhart.

Lockhart seized Remus’ elbow and began marching him through the room, apologizing to his fans as he went and promising more autographs as soon as he was done.

As soon as they were free of the crowd, Remus shrugged out of Lockhart’s grasp. He was perfectly capable of walking by himself, thank you. Lockhart leapt to open the door to the parlor and ushered Remus through. Remus sighed, thinking that Lockhart seemed determined to show off.

His thoughts were further confirmed when the famous wizard chuckled. “Sorry about that show back there but you know how fans are. Always have to touch the legend.” He smiled widely, showing every one of his brilliantly white teeth.

Remus merely raised one eyebrow and took a seat at the wooden table. As Lockhart sat opposite him, adjusting his turquoise robes, he conjured two goblets and poured the firewhiskey.

Lockhart chuckled again. “My favorite. You’ve done your reading.”

Remus mildly shrugged and busied himself with grabbing quill and parchment as Lockhart drank deeply. He finally sat back in his chair. Remus prompted, “The charm?”

“Ah—yes,” Lockhart said, clearly startled at starting business so quickly. Remus didn’t feel bad though. The other wizard had stalled long enough and it was important that he get this information quickly. “So, obviously, it has to be cast during the full moon when the werewolf is a werewolf.” His eyes crinkled at the corners like he was thinking his sentence back though and deciding that it sounded terrible. Remus didn’t notice. He was scribbling notes.

“There’s a potion that you must take before casting the charm,” Lockhart continued.

Remus glanced up. “A potion?” he repeated.

Lockhart nodded. “The—uh—Changeling potion. It gives you the semblance of a werewolf.”

“Could a werewolf cast the charm on himself, then?” Remus interrupted.

Lockhart looked startled. “What?”

Remus repeated slowly, “Could a werewolf cast the spell, then?”

Lockhart paused, as though considering the question. Finally, he simply said, “No.”

“No?” But if you only need the semblance—”

“Exactly. You need just the semblance. Nothing more, nothing less.” Lockhart sounded like he was scrambling for an excuse and Remus eyed him suspiciously. “Anyway,” Lockhart pushed ahead. “You need the semblance so that you can speak the language of the werewolf.”

Remus put his quill down and stared at Lockhart, who squirmed under the mild gaze. He’d never heard of the language of the werewolf before. Then again, he rarely spent time with his kind. Perhaps there was a language that he’d never learned to speak. He waved for Lockhart to continue.

Lockhart looked slightly disgruntled like he wasn’t used to someone else giving the directions. Still, he continued, “So, to make the Changeling Potion you’ll need the hair of the werewolf you want to cure, uh, lacewing flies, the juice of the yellow-bellied starflower…”

The wizard kept listing ingredients but Remus had paused again. The yellow-bellied what? It didn’t even exist. A suspicion was growing in his mind.

“Skip the ingredients,” Remus interrupted. “What about the charm?”

Again, Lockhart looked thrown off-balance and Remus wondered if the man had prepared this speech beforehand. “Right. The—uh—the charm. Well, it took some trial and error but—”

“It took some trial and error?” Remus repeated incredulously. “How are you still alive?”

“Well—you know—I was looking—” Lockhart dithered.

That drove the final nail in the coffin. “There’s not a cure,” Remus stated, reaching for his wand stealthily.

Lockhart’s face hardened. His arm twitched like he, too, was reaching for his wand. “Of course it’s not,” he admitted with a sneer. “No one’s even heard of such a thing.”

Remus was furious—and crushed. “Why?” he whispered.

“Why?” Lockhart laughed. “Money, my dear man. Fame. Fortune. Take your pick.” His face grew serious again. “You understand that I can’t let you leave like this. I don’t know what you’ll do with this secret.” He seized his wand.

Remus was quicker.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” he roared.

Fueled by Remus’ anger, the spell was overenthusiastic. Lockhart’s chair tipped over backwards, taking Lockhart with it. His wand flew out of his hand. Remus caught it neatly. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” he hissed. “I don’t take advantage of other people.” He strode to the door and then tossed the wand back to Lockhart.

Remus left through the back way. He stood in the alleyway and paused for a minute, composing himself. He took two deep breaths. Looking as mild and meek as he usually did, he slipped into Diagon Alley and disappeared into the crowds. On to the next thing.

* * *

 

Nearly five years later, Remus was fixing a roof when the owner of the home stepped into the yard. He’d turned to mundane work after yet another piece of anti-werewolf legislature made it impossible to get any sort of wizarding job.

“Letter for you!” the owner hollered.

Remus came down the ladder and held out his hand. The owner, a Squib himself, passed it over.

 

_Good evening, Remus,_

_Perhaps you are more interested in fixing roofs now but, once again, Hogwarts finds itself short of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I was going to draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet when I remembered your affinity for tutoring during your school days. If you’re interested in the position, it’s yours._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Remus grinned and penned a short reply back.

 

_Let me finish this roof first._


End file.
